


letterpile

by cryingkneecaps



Category: Star vs. The Forces Of Evil
Genre: ???? - Freeform, Fluff, I'm Not Ashamed, If you want - Freeform, M/M, My First Fanfic, My First Work in This Fandom, bad attempt at fanfiction, fun times all times, hahhh, honestly i'm sorry, human au?, still had fun though, still pretty nice though, sure, there isn't a lot of stories for these two so here's thiiisss, this is trash though, trash, unorganized work
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-23
Updated: 2016-08-23
Packaged: 2018-08-10 15:41:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,433
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7851157
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cryingkneecaps/pseuds/cryingkneecaps
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tom is a taxi driver while a trash can is stalking him. More or less.</p><p>........<br/>“To Switzerland.”  Two words which were muttered by a client.<br/>“What?” Was Tom's response</p><p>	Apparently this kid wasn't kidding. Disappointment written all over their face.</p><p>	“Y'know you can't just drive there right?” No this has to be a joke right?</p><p>	Humming to themselves “Mmm.” that was the end of that- then they left<br/>…....<br/>“.. I was proposed to, but they seemed to have disappeared” Marco just shrugged it off</p><p>		“I still can't take you to Switzerland though.” Tom scoffed<br/>“Fine, then Kansas.”<br/>“Why Kansas all of a sudden?”<br/>“Because I wrote an essay about Kansas in the 4th grade..”<br/>“You've known each other that long?”<br/>“Heh... Of course not”</p>
            </blockquote>





	letterpile

**Author's Note:**

> Please feel free to use this Idea~ sweep this story prompt off its feet and go waltzing off with it. Have at it.

Drawing closer the distance between Marco and Tom were magnetized to each other. The roads covered in speed bumps and used bandages. God, how did Tom not noticed he was being stalked? Marco sure knew, with a picture of a certain Taxi driver in his lonely leather brief case. A certain loathsome leather brief case filled with nothing but beaming stars. _How wonderful it is_ Marco thought _to exist with such as a divine person as he... A fallen angel tripped when our eyes met_. Meant to share all our experiences- breathing, heaving heavy sighs// the same oxygen. Laughing delightfully, delicately drifting to deception. Their eyes h16 s235 v75 r75 g24 b5 and h2 s242 v100 r100 g9 b5 meeting and mixing form a blushing, his reaction delayed, outlived. Though normally disposed of would also be owned. Deliberate, decisive- dealing with borderline annoyance to drown Tom in frustration. His temper, rugged, left him chatty.

 

 _Please slow down_ Marco thought _I can never find my pen in time_

Giving up everything Marco pleaded silently for Tom to use his memorizing voice borrowed by seemingly endless strength. Repeat.

 

Repeat

Repeat

Repeat

Repeat

Repeat

Repeat

 

 

Marco's heart dove deeper into a fever inducing attraction.

 

Muttering more to himself Marco barely voiced

“To Switzerland.”

 

s puttering a “What?” Tom seemed at a loss.

 

 

 

Of course it wasn't a completely impossible ending, Tom _was_ a Taxi driver for crying out loud.

 

Repeat.

 

Again, a little more clearly, Marco spoke

“Take me to Switzerland.”

 

Scoffing Tom replied

“Y'know we can't _drive_ there right?”

 

Even at a more loss Marco stared beyond muddy puddles. Reaching further then anyone's imagination.

Childlike wonder urged him to step in- see how deep of a puddle it truly was.

 

That's Tom's eyes.

Finally nodding Marco left Tom in a confused state.

 

 

 

“I was proposed to, but my love disappeared.”

Marco explained kneading the handle on his lowly leather brief case.

 

“Did they go to Switzerland?-- I'm sorry” Tom's fingers found there way to the bridge of his nose. “I still can't take you there...”

 

Forcefully “Fine.” Marco interrupted

“Then to Kansas.”

 

 

“Why Kansas of all places?” Tom asked.

 

Chuckling softly Marco told him  
“Because I wrote an essay on the state in the 4th grade...”

 

“You've known each other for that long?” practically mentally out of breath- Tom asked. Again.

 

Again. Again Macro laughed more amused then anything.

“Hahah.. Of course not.”

 

Shining almost as much as his leather add on Marco smiled. Reminding himself every snit-bit of the memory.

 

 

Exasperated Tom shook his head. Chuckling.

“Well, It's better than another Country...” Sighing in defeat.

 

Tom just looked back at Marco.

Marco just shrugged.

Their gazes returned.

 

 

Their first glance

Their first meeting

Their first words

Not far from a past life/love/+

 

Marco- shifting as close as a Taxi can allow. He noticed a scar on Tom's picture perfect glimpse of a sun's light as skin. If tears formed Freckles, then He'd kiss is by his eyes. Living on a different planes of the body. Tom, farther away inched every mile distanced from March blessed Marco. Dreadful lines- expressing in confidence where the two both end and begin- separately.

 

Marco just burst out laughing

“It's just... We're really going aren't we?”

Tom just chuckled along

“Are you really sure about this?”

 

Even past help- he still asked Marco. So, the other boy thought of an appropriate answer.

 

“Of course not.”

That's where that ended. Thought there Stomach''s were the beginning.

Marco was starving, not entirely for food, but for something he couldn't embrace.- So He just stared at Tom's hands. Besides bridges of noses they held burgers, drinks, Marco's infinitely warming being. Tom is similar to a heating blanket. Extraordinary on its own- Marco still needs to find the power source. He desires the others' warmth.

 

Spine connecting to hips, ribs, a skull, _bones._ His body ached for Tom. If Without each other Marco prayed to stars and beyond unknown that his courage wouldn't seep away from him.

 

Voicing idle chatter They opinionated on differing states of weather, sports or ignorance of, likes/dislikes, life.... Love topics should stay in a locked chest with a broken key. Something about the subject made their mouths dry and throats clingy.

 

Perhaps we're all a little too young.

Jupiter's eye peering down their restless bodies.

No blankets

No pillows

No home

But there was words of comfort.

 

“Say, I hope you find whatever it is you're looking for in Kansas.”

Tom muttered.

 

Chuckling softly “And I hope you buy something nice with all the money I'll have to give you” Marco joked

 

“Hmm” Tom continued. “I'll have to buy you a new brief case... yours is so worn out..”

 

In a joking voice the hue of a smile is obviously heard “Oh Tom, I can't just part with poor old Casey! Then I'll have to buy you a new tie- **Yours** wins the 'worn out' award” Marco teased.

 

“Hey! Its for good luck..” fake hurt flooded Tom's voice.

 

His voice flooded Marco's heart.

 

Pondering a bit Tom genuinely asked:

“What's your fiance like?”

 

The same voice struck Marco's heart.

“Oh, He's kinda, but can have a rather poor personality- he's very social, which makes me jealous at times.. but kindhearted complemented with a mean anger streak.. also a horrid habit of leaving me behind” Smiling nonetheless Marco sighed. “He fills me completely...”

 

Tom stayed silent for a few moments.

“Huh..” Was his only reaction.

 

 

Even though Marco's previous love(life was fragile- this made him curl up more. While his admiration bloom forth unspeakable feelings. Hushed and smeared like a confession finger printed on a fluttering frost winged window. By now its smudged to turned into something incomprehensible- something filthy as finger printed grease on the glass.

 

_Our noses could be practically squished together_

Coldly kissed by the glass instead. The idea of the others' lips would warm them again... Marco felt.. could they feel the same?

 

Almost as if they've been to fairs. Fairly jumped into each other on the Ferris Wheel. Laughed at jolts, smooched with cotton candy sticky hunger.

 

“I have someone special too, though, nothing _that_ serious.” Blushing Tom stated so to find something else in common with Marco.

 

 

Take that awful fair money and leave this falsehood of a simple dream.

 

 

“Is that so...” Marco just hugs nothing.

 

Surely such a hope would be drenched by this dampening truth. Truth of iridescent breeze. Drowning it, Drowning him.

 

Tom was once the air fueling his unrequited feelings- now Ignited his lungs. Setting a smoldering fire throughout Marco's body. It hurt. Hopefully it'd burn **quick** and **fast**. _Should I even confide in this day dream of a facade?_

 

 

Marco's Lying leather brief case squinted at him.

_What a backstabber._

 

 

Marco's funeral would be held shortly after. A murder. The crime scene. Chalked outline. Marco was a victim of Tom's charms.

 

His sighs are Marco's downfall

His laughter are cold digits around Marco's throat

His scent is hydrogen cyanide

His smile would tear out Marco's heart

His gaze would gouge out Marco's eyes...

 

Marco's limp body is mindlessly swept off his feet. Dancing with emotions, they're the lead, of course. Two of once entangled together an everlasting ocean mixing within a palette. Swirled as clouds to form distinguished sweat drops. Defenseless, tangled between the other. Twirling, a carelessly mashed new color. Something from Aluminum to repulsion.

Tom's singular breath only existing to be caught. Placed inside a birdcage.

Strangled to become Marco's soul hope. Something weightless. A concept. It couldn't be breathless, _right?_

 

 

Though Tom as a whole being.

Forces Marco's wish to cry tears shed by joy all the while break his own arm in unnerving submission. Captivated merely by a design.

How tragic.

 

Truly a story worth sharing. Perhaps to a particular partner. Sewn with lively leather. Stored way someplace obvious- and glazed over stranger's eyes. That could work, but who would buy it? Is it relatable? Maybe its a selfish scheme to loosen its hold on Marco's shoulders.

 

Perhaps just maybe possibly probably most likely as not it might barely make a cut.

 

 

Ticking past midnight, the sun would rise again with or without Marco- mainly the second one. Tom would awaken almost like normal, well, as normal as sleeping in a taxi goes. _Huh_. Only a rectangular case would be left. Out of sight Tom eyed its insides.

 

    * A picture of him

    * along with some money.




 

Flipping over such a photo were the words

“Maybe I could write it down. In Kansas.”

 

 

What a Lovely little leather brief case.

 

**Author's Note:**

> told you it was unorganizedd  
> thnaks it was fun writtting


End file.
